Fellowship of the Outcasts: Chapter One: "A Monk Who Drinks?!"
I do not own Dungeons or Dragons,
the character's classes,
or Burz Gro-Khash's name.
Enjoy!
Aerendyl nocked the arrow; quietly, silently. Drawing it back, the air in his throat caught as he stopped breathing. His head cleared and he aimed the head of the arrow at the target. A young buck, majestic and tall, grazing in a small clearing. Time seemed to slow down, his vision focused and his fingers slipped from the arrow. Time stopped, a small thud echoed in the clearing, then regained its balance as the buck hit the ground. He stood up, unstringing his bow and tying it to his back, walking over to the buck.
A clean hit and a couple days rations, along with some spending money. He skinned the buck and pulled the meat, wrapping some of it in paper, placing it in his pack. He dragged the small stretcher he had made previously to the buck, and tying it to the sled-like transport, he began to make his way back to town, to sell the remains and get boarding for the night.
When he arrived in the town, he quickly traded what he hadn't stripped from the buck, along with the stretcher, for some more rations and a small amount of gold pieces. He made his way to the tavern, weaving between the common populace, his ears and sharp features hidden by the cowl he wore. Once the elf had located the tavern locale, he entered and took a seat near the back. After ordering a flagon of ale, he noticed a figure near him was watching him.
The only way he could tell was that the figure's head was pointing directly at him, and though he wore a large hood, he could tell the figure was not asleep by how he gripped his mug. Scowling, Aerendyl stood up and payed the waitress, then took to the stairs, up to the room he had previously reserved. Entering the room, he quickly shut the door and stood near it, his dagger at the ready. Soon enough, footsteps quietly approached his door. Then, a knock. Aerendyl paused, then stood up and opened the door. If the figure indeed was an assassin, why knock?
Sure enough, it was the same person, though with their hood down, Aeren could tell it was a half orc male. "Yes?" He asked sharply, wondering about the intrusion.
"Good evening, Ranger." The half orc was surprisingly polite for his kind."My friends and I wondered if you would join us in our room for a bowl of wine and a proposition."
Aeren frowned. What could the half-orc mean? A proposition?
"What kind of proposition?" Aeren asked suspiciously.
"The kind that has great rewards and knowledge at the end, if you care to join us..." The half-orc smiled. "But please, if you feel uncomfortable, I will introduce myself. I am Burz Gro-Khash, Monk." That would explain why he held no weapons...
"What kind of monk?" Aeren had met a few distasteful monks in his day, who, surprisingly enough, had tried to kill him for being an elf.
"I am of the noble drunken boxer school, Ranger." The half orc bowed. "Graduated at the top of my class."
"A drunken boxer?"Aerendyl had never even heard of that specific school. "You realize that doesn't sound very tasteful..."
"It's how you use your skills, not what they're called. So how about it? Will you join us, for just a drink at least?" The half orc appraised him, looking him up and down. "We could use a ranger for what we're looking for."
Aerendyl looked back into his room. It was either a night alone with a comfortable fire, or a night with what could be a bunch of rowdy half orcs and mindless drinking. It wasn't a very hard choice normally...but Burz had said that there would be riches...and he needed the funds. "I'll give it a chance." He stated quietly to the half-orc.
"Good! Follow me then." Burz back up, allowing Aeren to exit, then began to lead down the hall. "We are located at another tavern, one far less...rowdy. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves, lest we are followed and word about what we're looking for gets out." Arendyl nodded. It was sound thinking.
"Oy! Pignose! How about some drinks?" A large man stood in the corner, yelling at the half-orc. "How much longer does your slavery count for? Another hundred years?" There were some laughs from his fellows, sitting around him. The man was obviously drunk, and Burz grunted. "And you called me distasteful, elf. Look at that." He took a swig out of his flask, replacing it at his belt. "If we get into a fight, I need some gin in my belly." He explained quietly. "But we shall first attempt to leave quietly." He continued walking towards the door, Aeryn in tow. "Hey! Greenshkin! I wash talking to you!" The large man lumbered over to them, and Burz turned, taking another swig.
"I suggest you turn around, before I hand you back to your friends in a broken pile of bones." Burz stated quietly. "We only wish to leave in peace."
"An orc and an elf? You two going to fuck?" Another laugh from his friends. "I think the Elf's ass is a little small, unless hes the real man!"
Aeryn's upper lip twitched, and he spoke. "Let us leave this pompous fool, before he signs his own deathwish." The man started laughing at this. "oooh! The little elf thinks hes a big tough ma-glrph!" His speech was inhibited by a leather-hilted knife that suddenly appeared, sticking out of the man's throat. He fell down, quiet dead, and his fellows stood up in a rage, jaunting and yelling.
"Not smart..." Burz took a large swig, draining the rest of his flask in one gulp. "Effective, but not smart." His eyez dazed over as the drink started setting in. "Get ready for a fight." He took an odd stance, swaying back and forth slowly. Calls of "Fight, fight, fight, fight!" echoed throughout the tavern as the other men made a lazy half-circle around the elf and half-orc. "You can fight, yesh?" Aeryn sneered. "I still wonder how you fight, already smashed with ale as you are." The half orc laughed. "Oh, you'll shee, alright! I'll take those two, you take the other one, that fine?"
The elf nodded, and Burz sprang into action, tackling one man, then rolling and sweepkicking the other, grabbing the men's heads, he brought them together, with a large thump, knocking them out.Aeryn watched in amazement, forgetting the other man. He barely ducked in time, a large scimitar swinging just above his head. Growling, he reached out quickly, grabbing the side of the man's head, then swung up onto his back. The man, surprised, started trying to fling the elf's small frame off of him. The man stopped swinging, then collapsed to the ground, Aeryn's knife sticking out of the back of the man's neck. He retreived it, and cleaned it.
The orc was at his side once again, growling. "Idiots don't know when to quit." Four more men had sprank up from their tables, and the orc pushed the elf back. "We need an escape route." He put a hand to his stomach, and took a great breath. Just as the men almost got to them, he blew out his breath, and flame sprang from his lips, stopping the men in their tracks. The men backed up, horrified as the half-orc continued spewing flame, while simultaneously pushing the elf out the door and backing out. As soon as he stopped, he slammed the door to the tavern shut and starting running, Aeryn easily keeping pace. "What in the abyss was THAT!?"
Burz grinned. "Little trick all drunken boxers know. We use our inner ki to ignite the ale in our bellies as we spit it out. Nice and easy way to keep enemies back and sober up instantly. We're here." He opened the door to the tavern quickly, a small one, with hardly anyone in it. Pushing Aeryn inside, he closed the door, then started to walk up the stairs. "Are you ready to meet the group?" Aeryn nodded, and Burz opened the door. Two heads looked up, but niether were half-orcs. A human woman and a bearded dwarf looked up, smiling at the arrival of their comrade, and at the appearence of a new face...